


Law of Reciprocity

by Lucidlucy, Xeline



Series: Laws of Attraction [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, And Hermione is desperate for relief, Dirty Talk, Draco Malfoy is a Mess, F/M, Filthy, Masturbation, So Much Dirty Talk, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucidlucy/pseuds/Lucidlucy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xeline/pseuds/Xeline
Summary: “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, but the glint in his eye was dead serious.Hermione shook her head vigorously, but her eyes kept returning time and time again to the vague outline of his growing arousal.“No? Okay, then.” Malfoy licked his lips, as if deliberating. “I’ll show you mine if you touch yourself.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Laws of Attraction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858789
Comments: 149
Kudos: 1342
Collections: Got me in my feelings <3





	Law of Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> A smutty one-shot to start this party out with a bang. Quite literally. 
> 
> A huge thanks to Lethe and Jamethiel for the beta work done on this piece.

She hadn’t meant to see him fuck Pansy Parkinson. She certainly hadn’t meant to watch for as long as she had.

The stone wall was rough against her back, grit and sharp edges catching on her jumper, bruising exposed elbows when they brushed against it, but the discomfort was almost bearable, nearly forgettable, compared to the intensity of the tension building between her legs. She pushed her knuckles into her mouth and bit down, brain torn between agonizing over her choices and giving into the fog of hateful lust that drove her; her other hand was shoved in her knickers, fingers working furiously at her clit.

She had never been so soaked in her life. Hermione hated herself for it. More, she hated that it was Draco Malfoy behind the reason she was here, in an alcove, attempting to swallow a moan as she tried to bring herself some relief.

She had been on her way to the dungeons after dinner to drop off a scroll on Snape’s desk. It was a futile effort—Snape didn’t give extra credit to Gryffindors on principle—but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t try regardless. She expected to walk into an empty dungeon.

Instead she’d been met with Malfoy’s unflinching, gray gaze over Parkinson’s shoulder. He’d stared Hermione straight in the eye and picked up his speed, pistoning into a moaning Parkinson, her legs draped over Malfoy’s arms and clinging onto his shoulders for dear life.

Parkinson seemed to have been too gone to notice the short gasp Hermione let out, or perhaps she couldn’t hear it over the wet _slap-slap-slap_ of flesh smacking against flesh, but Hermione hadn’t stayed long to find out. She’d turned around and bolted. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been standing there, but it had felt like an eternity, and Malfoy—Malfoy hadn’t blinked.

That had been two weeks ago.

She had never made it a habit of seeking out Malfoy, but it was hard to avoid seeing him. They shared several classes, for one. Hermione had purposely missed several lessons as a means to avoid having to confront his sneer. The thought of seeing him and having her face give away her embarrassment was mortifying. She’d cited feeling unwell and hid like a coward, then walked around on eggshells any time she needed to move around the castle, her steps leaden and hesitant.

Her chest heaved, and she bit down on her lower lip, trying her hardest to keep a sobbed-out moan from surfacing—she was so close… She felt unhinged, masturbating in the shadows to the thought of one of the vilest people she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting when she should be completing her patrols instead.

She’d finally given in, hiding in a tiny alcove lit only by the dim moonlight peeking through an arrowslit, a giant, heavy tapestry blocking her from the dark, empty hall. Desperation drove her. She’d been at a frustrated boiling point all week, and with nearly no privacy in her shared room, she gave into her desire. It would only be once. Everyone was already asleep. She could scratch the itch and get it over with, she promised herself as she circled her clit. No one should be out and about, she was the only one patrolling this close to the dungeons—

There was a ruffling noise and Hermione stopped cold, wet fingers freezing in place and lungs constricting painfully as she battled to hold her breath despite her racing heart.

A voice. “Who’s there?”

She knew that voice.

The dim glow of a wand light crept under the edge of the tapestry. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed her lips together hard enough to hurt, and took such shallow breaths she began to feel dizzy.

She _could_ go out there and demand an explanation for why he was out of bed at this hour. But how would she explain why _she_ was hiding in an alcove behind a tapestry, flushed and wild eyed and clearly smelling of sex?

No. It was easier to avoid that, just like it’d been easier to avoid him.

She counted her heartbeats. After a torturous thirty beats, she heard the click of his heels and watched the light begin to fade. Once she could hear nothing more, Hermione gasped like a drowning man coming up for air; she slumped against the wall, her hand was still in her knickers from shock.

“ _Immobulus!_ ”

“ _Silencio!”_

“ _Lumos!_ ”

Hermione caught herself in a silent scream. One moment she was thanking Merlin for letting her get away with her dignity, the next she was unable to move, blinded by light, and screaming internally at the sound of the tapestry being yanked aside.

“...Granger?” It was Malfoy. “Wow, are _you_ gullible. Not even toddlers fall for that trick. What are you doing hiding behind a—”

She couldn’t see him with the light on the tip of his wand pointed right at her face, but she could hear the second his breath hitched and he realized the position he’d immobilized her in. Her face burned.

When had he gotten so good at firing off incantations so quickly?

The light disappeared. Hermione blinked rapidly, the only part of her that could move, her eyes wildly searching the disorienting darkness in front of her until one by one Malfoy’s features came into focus. He was silent, for once, but he wasn’t basking in the look of surprised horror on her face. No, he was looking decidedly down.

She expected him to gloat. To say something that would surely make her cry, and then use this to publicly humiliate her in front of the entire school.

Instead, he whispered.

“You look pretty all worked up like this, Granger,” he said. Hermione tried not to read into or react to that taunt, but she involuntarily gave herself away when she jerked at his next words. “Same as you did two weeks ago when you caught me fucking. Is that what you had been thinking about?”

A moment later, she could move.

Well, she could _almost_ move. She tried to yank her hand out of her knickers, but found it stuck, her skirt still hitched up and pinned at the waistband by her wrist. She glared at him.

“Malfoy.”

Oh, look, she could speak, too.

“Was it?” he pressed.

Hermione looked at the floor.

“I hate you.”

It was a standard answer. A safe answer. One he should expect.

“Ah, so it _was_.” She could hear the satisfied smile in his voice. She hated that, too.

The sadistic bastard must be enjoying himself because he took a step closer. He caged her, placing his hand beside her head on the wall which, combined with the angle of his body, blocked her from making an exit.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, but the glint in his eye was dead serious. A shiver crept up her spine and she pressed harder against the wall. His proximity was beginning to mess with her, for despite her brain screaming that she should run, hex him, _anything_ other than stand there and listen, she could begin to feel warm wetness repooling against her fingertips. Hermione shook her head vigorously, but her eyes kept returning time and time again to the vague outline of his growing arousal.

Malfoy took yet another step. He was so near now she could feel heat radiating from him. His voice dropped. He’d noticed her wandering eye.

“No? Okay, then.” Malfoy licked his lips, as if deliberating. “I’ll show you mine if you touch yourself.”

Then, with a soft flick of his wand, she was completely free. Malfoy stowed his wand away and waited, gaze flicking between her eyes and her hand then back again.

She was free shove him and hex him and curse him and—

Her fingers twitched inside her knickers.

Malfoy’s lids lowered, the tension Hermione hadn’t noticed he carried seeping from his shoulders as he exhaled softly and bit into his lower lip. She could see his desire for something he shouldn’t have displayed on his face just as sharply as she felt it. But he did nothing else, as if waiting to gauge whether the twitch had been a fluke.

It was reckless to engage with Malfoy in this way, and yet seeing the determined set of his jaw felt like a challenge she was not willing to lose. Hermione breathed and closed her eyes, summoning the courage. She placed herself back in front of the dungeons, watching as he fucked Parkinson and watched _her_. She swallowed a gasp as she circled her clit.

The sound of a zipper brought her back.

Then the filth started spilling from his lips, right into her ear, with Malfoy so close she could smell his cologne. She found herself pressed between a rock and a hard place, unable to make eye contact, but unable to look elsewhere as he presented himself and wrapped a firm fist around his cock.

“I thought about you too, Granger.” He pumped once. Hermione’s breath hitched. “It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about, frankly. You and that pretty little cunt you’re currently petting.”

She could feel his knuckles graze the back of her hand every time he tugged for a maddening second.

“It was the only thing I could think of after you ran away, that day in the dungeons.” Malfoy’s head drooped next to hers, his body curving to bring his lips level with her ear. When had he grown so tall? And still no part of him touched her except for the graze of his knuckles and the tickle of his breath against her cheek. She watched his shoulders shudder as he picked up the pace. “Pansy was just an itch, but you? You’ve been driving me mad.”

Hermione glanced down, driven by morbid fascination. It’s not like she hadn’t seen a naked guy in her life; she had tried fooling around with Ron and read enough anatomy books to know what a guy’s erection should look like, but those things did nothing to prepare her for the act of watching her bitter enemy languidly pumping himself mere inches away from her own hand. Hermione put just a bit more pressure on her clit, sending an electric shock through her nerves. Her shallow panting turned into a moan against her better judgement.

In her peripheral, she saw Malfoy’s throat bob, his adam’s apple engaged in a pronounced rise and fall. She jerkily turned her head slightly to look at him. His eyes were pinned on her moving wrist. She looked down. Nothing could be seen except for the light outline of her hand against her mound, but from here they could both see the erratic movements of her hand. He spoke again.

“That sweet little cunt you’re hiding there, it’s been tormenting me. I couldn’t come, that day, did you know? I kept going and going and couldn’t finish. Not until I thought of what emptying into you would feel like.” Malfoy leaned in and lowered his voice, his next words almost a sigh. “That was the best fucking orgasm of my life.”

Hermione snapped her eyes shut. His hand was coated in precome, and the slap of flesh reached her ears as it joined the sloshing of her fingers.

“I’ve even had dreams about it,” he continued. He said it so softly Hermione thought for a moment she’d imagined it—as if admitting to dreaming of her was a secret best whispered—then leaned into his arm so he was just that much nearer. “I’ve dreamed of throwing you on my bed, spreading your legs, and eating you out until my jaw hurts and you’re passed out. I wake up tangled in my sheets, fucking into my mattress, every time.”

Hermione bit down on her lip hard and slipped a finger in, then shuddered. She spread her legs further, just enough to accommodate the new angle, but Malfoy noticed. He pushed a knee between her legs just enough to press on her hand. Her fingers pushed in deeper than she could ever manage on her own, and she whined. That was their only point of physical contact, the thin fabric of her cotton knickers and his trousers the only barrier. It was more than either one of them should have allowed.

“Fuck, Granger,” he said between gritted teeth. “I want it. I want a taste. I want to know what you feel like wrapped around my cock, squeezing,” he squeezed himself, and she watched his knees shake. He sounded delirious. “Do you moan when you come? Or do you scream?”

Her body was on the verge of bursting, of self-combustion. Malfoy kept breathing hard into her ear, whispering all the things he imagined himself doing to her in the safety of his mind, all the ways he’d devised to make her scream as she came for him, and not from pain. She knew every word was born out of the heat of the moment. She couldn’t care beyond chasing the impending orgasm that would soothe the edge Malfoy kept her dancing on. This was so wrong, and that only made her want it more.

“It’s been keeping me up at night, wondering.” His chuckle was dark. Depraved. Hermione managed just enough understanding through her hazy lust to mentally agree. “Do you know how much sleep I’ve lost the last two weeks? And you’ve been avoiding me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“No, I haven’t, Malfoy,” she said, finally breaking her silence. Her words were a squeak to her own ears, like she’d been running a marathon while scared. Malfoy’s shoulders shook. He was laughing. He dipped his head lower still, until it was mere inches away from her neck, then inhaled.

“Liar,” he hissed. His knee against her hand pressed up until he had her nearly on her tiptoes, forcing her fingers so far into her cunt that her knuckles ached.

She began fucking herself with abandon. Pressed so hard against his knee, every moment forced her to bounce slightly on her tiptoes to accommodate her hand, slamming back down on her fingers as she rocked her hips. It must have looked a lot like bouncing on a cock. She heard Malfoy groan. He pumped his cock faster, his fist knocking lightly against her lower abdomen every time.

Merlin, the noises they made. They were barely touching, and yet she felt smothered in him, in the scent of him, of what they were doing. No one had ever managed to arouse her to this degree without so much as laying a finger on her.

“This is wrong,” she managed to say.

“And isn’t it the fucking sweetest?” He grunted, squeezing as he fucked his fist harder, “Merlin, fuck. Please, Granger. Please tell me you’ve been walking around with wet knickers. Please tell me this hasn’t just been me.”

Hermione tried to laugh but instead gave a strangled gasp, jerking as a jolt of sensation shot down to her toes. She would never admit to it. “Fuck you, Malfoy.”

“I fucking wish.” His words were faint, but she’d heard them. Her fingers froze inside her cunt, and she whipped her head to the side, looking at him. Malfoy met her stare with one made of steel. A muscle in his jaw ticked. He angled his head until he was staring at her, his face so close she felt the warm air of his breath when he spoke.

“Touch yourself, Granger. Keep looking at me.”

His knee bumped her back into action.

There was something far too intimate in the way they were standing. Malfoy’s hooded eyes kept flicking back between her eyes and her mouth. She bit her lip, and could have sworn he jerked forward before stopping himself, but it only seemed to get him talking again. Every word out of him caressed her cheek, hot air licking at her parted lips until they were sharing the same oxygen, making her dizzy. She focused on the light beading of sweat on his brow; on the throbbing vein in his throat as he swallowed over and over.

“That’s it,” he said, encouraging as he picked up the pace, fucking his hand, his hips jerking as he squeezed his cock over and over. “Keep going. Keep pushing those pretty fingers inside. I wish they were mine. I wish it was my cock inside you. I bet you’re warm, and snug. I’m so hard, Granger. I’ve been hard every time I think I smell your perfume in the halls, and every time I see a curl of brown hair. I can’t even fuck other girls. I’ve had to resort to wanking.” Malfoy inched closer, grunting with every word as if chipping them out of stone one by one. “I bet you love that, Hermione.”

It was her name on his lips that sent her over the edge; the raspy edge with which he enunciated it, laced with hungry lust. She knew it would be the only time in her life she’d hear him say it. She knew he hated her. It was mutual. She had also heard enough anger in that statement to know every single word was true. Draco Malfoy had been wanking to her memory and her perfume for two weeks.

Hermione convulsed, toppling forward as her body shook with the strongest orgasm of her _life_. Malfoy adjusted quickly, her moans muffled by his shoulder as he groaned.

“Fuck.”

There was a splash of something searingly hot against her arm, trickling down her skin into her palm. It mixed with her own release.

They hung suspended in that moment. Hermione kept her eyes screwed shut and concentrated on breathing. Her hand ached, cramping from how hard she’d been fingering herself. She felt weightless and tired. Her instinct demanded she curl up and happily doze off.

She remembered who she was leaning against.

Clearing her throat took effort, but she managed to untangle herself from Malfoy, then set to righting her clothes. His come was sticky against her hand. She knew it had soaked into her knickers. Her face burned knowing she had a piece of Malfoy now plastered to her skin, but doing anything but trying to right her clothes might be dangerous. Just as she was about to wipe her hand, Malfoy grabbed her wrist.

“Wait.”

Before she had a moment to process, he popped two of her digits into his mouth and _sucked_ , defiantly staring at her as he did so. He then released her as if burned.

“So I can finally stop imagining.”

A flick of his wand, and it was as though the whole thing had not happened at all. He was clean again, and so was she. It smarted to realize there wasn’t even a wrinkle left in her skirt. Malfoy turned to leave.

On impulse, Hermione made to grab for his sleeve, then sense—or self preservation—stopped her short.

“Malfoy,” she called. “If you ever tell anyone—”

She heard a soft, derisive snort.

“Who would believe me? Or you, for that matter?” He looked at her, and Hermione was once again met with his usual dislike. Or, almost. He seemed slightly unbalanced, his sneer forced, his gaze unfocused. His pupils dilated further as he drank her in. Then he looked away, nostrils flaring as he focused on the wall over her head.

“You better hurry along. The dungeons aren’t safe for little lion cubs. Good night, Granger.”

She watched him go. What could she do? Dock points? After all that?

No. She would not do a thing, just like she knew he wouldn’t say a word.

Hermione turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Her steps were light.

She would take this one to the grave.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hi, this is your Star Wars fic author LucidLucy. I will be writing HP fanfic under a new handle, Xeline, but wanted to give my SW friends who also love HP, and who have spent so many years growing along with me, a chance to follow me into this new fandom corner of mine. That's why this fic is co-authored by both my handles, so if people want to come along, they're able to. You can also find me over at xeline.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thank you for reading my story. I hope you all liked it.
> 
> Comments & kudos water your local author plant 🌿(me).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Finders Keepers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893383) by [EjBlaKit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EjBlaKit/pseuds/EjBlaKit)




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